


Arresting Developments

by WorryinglyInnocent



Series: Fun in the Sun: Sizzling Smutlets [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, PWP, Smut, Smutlet, Woven Lace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Lacey has been arrested and is trying to get out of her tricky predicament. Weaver is happy to come to an agreement with her. Woven Lace, pure PWP smutlet.





	Arresting Developments

 

She wasn’t making any effort at all to look contrite, but then again, she wouldn’t be Lacey if she was. She just smirked at him as he entered the interview room, and even though he was the police officer and she was the arrestee, it was clear to Weaver just who held the balance of power in the room.

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, staring her down in an attempt to intimidate her that didn’t work. It never worked. Weaver had lost count of the times that they had sat at opposite sides of this table and all his usual tactics had failed in the face of the force of nature that was Lacey French.

Maybe next time he would get Rogers to interview her. On second thoughts, Lacey would eat his partner alive. No, on Lacey’s frequent trips to the station, Weaver was always going to be the one who took care of her, even if he did always leave her presence feeling like he was the one who had been interrogated.

“I take that you know why you’re here, Lacey,” he began. Lacey nodded, still smiling.

“I took the liberty of redecorating my cheating scum of a boyfriend’s car,” she said.

“You were causing criminal damage.”

“I was teaching him a lesson. If he wants to fuck other women in the back seat, well, that’s his problem.”

Weaver sighed. “You slashed three of the tyres.”

“Yeah, insurance doesn’t pay out if only three are slashed.”

“You smashed all the lights and windows.”

“With a baseball bat; don’t be stingy on the details, Detective.”

“You also scratched up most of the paintwork.”

“That’s what you get when you say you want to be exclusive and then go around pounding Tiffany from the garage in the back seat. Don’t get me wrong, Detective, I’d be perfectly happy with him pounding Tiffany from the garage in the back seat as long as I’m allowed to go around getting the satisfaction that he can’t give me elsewhere.”

Lacey glanced over at the tape recorder. “You’re going to enjoy playing this one back, aren’t you, Detective?” she purred. “I can go on into more detail about just how shitty Gaston is in the sack if you want. He’s never found my clit in all the time we’ve been together, even when I’m rubbing it right there in front of him.”

Weaver reached across and switched off the recorder.

“What do you want, Lacey?”

“What I don’t want is to go to jail,” she retorted, before resuming her previous smirk and leaning across the table, pushing her breasts forward. “Anything I can do to assure that?”

Weaver looked up at the corner of the room and the ominous red recording light of the CCTV camera. On the one hand, he had to uphold the law. On the other hand, Gaston Chevalier was an ass who deserved everything he got in terms of his car being vandalised, and on another hand, Lacey French was very attractive, and if she was offering something worthwhile, then…

“Don’t move.”

He left the room to turn to CCTV camera off and was pleased to find Lacey in exactly the same position as he left her in.

“Do we have a deal, then, Detective?” she asked.

Weaver responded with a smirk of his own. “Stand up.”

Lacey obeyed, slipping her arms around his neck, and going in for a fierce, bruising kiss that caught Weaver off his guard.

“Clothes off,” he growled, grabbing at the hem of her dress to yank it upwards.

“Are you going to search me, Detective?” Lacey asked, pulling her dress off over her head and cupping her bare breasts, rubbing her thumbs over dusky, pebbled nipples. “Give me a thorough going over?”

Weaver responded by returning her kiss, pushing her back against the table and laying her down on it, kissing his way down her skin to lick and bite at her nipples, tugging with his teeth and making her gasp. There was no tenderness in it all, just the rough and raw need of two people who had been dancing around each other for months without reaching a satisfactory conclusion.

Lacey pushed him up off her so that she could get her thong off, and for a moment, Weaver could only stare at her sprawled naked and lovely on his table, her pale skin marked from his lips and teeth.

“Come on, Detective,” Lacey drawled, opening up her folds with two fingers and beginning to touch her clit with a third. “Do you want to find out whether you’re better than my ex or not?”

Weaver scrambled in his wallet for a condom and wasted no time in shoving his trousers and boxers down his legs. Lacey smirked at the sight of his eager cock as he rolled the condom on, pumping his length a couple of times.

“Well, I guess it goes to show that you should never judge a guy by his height. Come, Detective. I’m all ready for some intimate investigation.”

He lined them up, plunging all the way in one swift motion and setting up a hard, fast pace. Lacey wasn’t the type to appreciate softness when she wanted a quick fuck; he’d been arresting her for long enough to know that. Still, he wanted to prove himself worthier than her stupid ex, at least, and he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing firmly.

“Oh yes,” Lacey moaned. “Fuck yes! Fuck!”

Weaver felt her inner walls clutch around his cock as she came, and he followed her over just a moment later, her tight channel still fluttering as he pulled out.

“You’re free to go, Miss French.”

“Glad to hear it, Detective. Maybe we could do this again, sometime? Perhaps in a slightly different setting?”

Weaver smiled as pulled his jeans back up and handed Lacey’s clothes back to her.

“I’m sure that we’ll be bumping into each other again, Miss French.”


End file.
